


Sessions

by Superfreaky



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Gen, Hurt, no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superfreaky/pseuds/Superfreaky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way that bookman removes Lavi's emotions. A little painful, a little sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sessions

The black order was rather quiet, its stone walls cold and dark. There were no torches in the halls as there were only a few people moving about the foreboding tower. Anyone who was home was trying to keep warm in their own quarters, the winter had come and there was no heating save for a puff of breath to cold hands or a thin standard issue blanket. 

 

Two of the people remaining at the Order were currently sharing a room, one a young teen and one a short old man.

 

“Your last session was a long time ago, Lavi. Do you need another one?” the old man, who greatly resembled a panda with his dark eye makeup, asked his much younger apprentice. The redheaded teen stopped reading his newspaper and tilted his head. He was a lean kid, more muscles on his arms and legs than his torso, but even those weren’t overly pronounced. Bookmen were more of a studious type, and the boy was training to be one, but their current mission had him fighting alongside soldiers of God against demons of all class and caliber. This was probably the last war that humankind would see and they were going to record it as close as possible, which meant both the master and apprentice had to learn to fight against demons.

 

“Mn not really sure...do you think so?” came the lazy reply, not betraying the slight fear the boy felt. 

 

“We should do it just in case, come, lay down,” the old man suggested, although it was not up for debate. It was a stern tone of voice, implying a command. As the boy’s master he always had the final say.

 

Lavi complained of the cold when he took off his clothes and went to lay face down on the bottom bed of their shared bunk. He watched the old man’s hair bob a bit as he walked over, it was styled up with gel and always ended up in a strange question mark shape. Although it was usually amusing Lavi found he couldn’t make a jest about it this time, he wasn’t in the mood. 

 

Lavi’s back had a large spread pattern of dots on it, scars that were running along his nerves and inner channels. There was one larger one that was white with age, from where he had been shot as a child, and a few that were cuts from battle. His body shivered for him when he heard the rattle of his master’s innocence- the name of their supernatural weapons used for fighting the demons. The tiny magical needles his master wielded weren’t exactly sharp and caused him pain during the beginning of these sessions. They weren’t really meant to be used on humans but the weathered old man found it easier for him to use his own needles as a way to treat patients and do acupuncture with because he had a deep connection with them- as all ‘exorcists’ did with their innocence.

 

As the first needle was pushed into Lavi’s skin he felt its magic ripping violently through his veins, like a dam that had bust, and judging by how much it hurt it probably  _ had _ been too long since he had done this. It was like fire, burning him in its wake as it corsed through his body. With every added needle the sensation grew, surging through him and taking over his muscles. Once he was in this state he couldn’t move, and was at his master’s mercy. Lavi had a rise of fear from his stomach, which he knew bookman could sense through his needles. 

 

The burning sensation ran up his spine, targeted now. It streamlined up the back of his neck and into his head and Lavi felt like it would burst from the pressure. It was like taking a bath in an icy fire, the crisp pain washed over all his nerves and was in every breath he took.

 

The next part of their ‘session’ was the one that the old man felt the most guilty for. He always gave the boy a little break before he started this part, and he watched as the young body before him trembled with little muscle spasms. 

 

Bookman took a breath before he sent his magic and consciousness into the boy’s mind. Once he was inside his vision left him and he had to use his inner sense to find what he was looking for. Lavi’s emotions circled around him and soaked into his being. He could feel what it was like to  _ be _ the boy, growing up in a world of war and knowing no other life. He could feel the fear of the demons, the thrill of a battle, and the pain of losing a fellow soldier. He could feel the sparks of love Lavi had for a certain one of his young friends and how fragile and precious that love was to the boy.

 

With a surge of his power, Bookman tore those emotions apart.

 

His apprentice would be better for it. Better able to detach himself from the war they were recording, more equipped to brush off the losses of the side they were fighting for. He would not feel loss or joy, 

love or hope. Once the boy was over he wouldn’t have to do their sessions anymore, wouldn’t have to feel the after images of the child’s emotions imprinted on his own self. 

 

Lavi rolled over once it was over, looking a little dazed. He could tell that something important to him was missing now, but couldn’t remember what it was. He felt empty, like he had been hollowed out. This was the price he had to pay to be a bookman’s apprentice, and today he wondered if it was worth it.


End file.
